


Some Kind of Joke

by Siriusfanatic



Series: X-Men: Past, Present and Future [2]
Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Casual Sex, Depressingly Repressed Bisexual Scott, Drunk Sex, Emotional Manipulation, First Time, Jealousy, M/M, Multi, in the closet Scott, scogan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 17:16:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4068094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siriusfanatic/pseuds/Siriusfanatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>None of the X-Men really know why it is Wolverine and Cyclops hate each other as much as they seem to; or why Scott seems constantly jealous of Logan's relationship with new member Remy LeBeau. No one of course, except Jubilee, who has gotten fed up with her mentors constantly tearing at each other's throats. But she has very little concept of what she's about to uncover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

                They were surrounded on all sides by Sentinels; towering robotic nightmares sent by their own government to destroy them. Currently there were only three; and that seemed like two too many. But on top of that, they had the Brotherhood to deal with.

                The once busy street around them was quickly reduced to rubble and ruins. Jubilee, separated from her squad, had taken refuge in the shell of a now burned out clothing store, trying to keep out of sight as Rictor, Toad and Blob rained chaos in the street outside, giving Kitty, Rogue and Bobby nearly more than they could handle. Logan was nearby, and Scott and Colossus as well. But they were occupied with the bigger threat at the moment. She was on her own.

                She was the monolithic head of the Sentinel turn in her direction, large red eyes scanning the surface for targets. Jubilee flattened herself against the wall and held her breath, but the monster must have spotted her anyway.

                A lazor blast cut through the wall, making her scream and leap for cover. She rolled to the floor, toppling into a clothing rack and causing it and several others to fall on her. She shouted and struggled, using her powers to blow the mess off of her in a screaming burst of color and energy. But doing so gained her even more unwanted attention.

                Just as she cleared the path of the Sentinel’s next strike, she found herself face to face with Toad, who was grinning menacingly at her. She started to leap away, only to have the younger mutant’s sticky amphibious tongue lash out and grab her, dragging her forward.

                He grabbed her and knocked her to the ground, his tongue strangling her. Jubilee squealed and choked and struggled, but couldn’t break free. Suddenly there was a heavy crunch of metal followed by the ominous crash of a eight story high robot crashing to the ground. As a cloud of dust kicked up, Jubilee winced and tried to look away. She heard the familiar _Sinkt!_ Of Logan’s claws, followed by a loud bellow at the older mutant came barreling down on them from the roof of the ruined building, and fell on Toad, ripping him away from Jubilee and forcing him to retract his tongue as the bigger man put him in a strangle hold.

                The girl laid on the ground, gasping for breath and rubbing her throat as she watched Wolverine choke Toad out before turning to her, shinning with sweat and flecks of blood and debris, looking like he had just stepped out of some action hero movie. “Program Pause!” he yelled.

                At once the world around them became still. Toad, the Sentinels and all the other threats stopped mid attack, frozen in time. Kitty, Bobby and Rogue stumbled to a halt, looking around in confusion.

                “What’s wrong? Is someone hurt?” Rogue asked, pushing her hair out of her face, tucking that thick white streak back behind her ear as she tried to catch her breath.

                “Damn, Logan, you cleaved that Sentinel’s arm right off its body! That was so fucking awesome! I-I mean _freakin’_ awesome, I mean… _shit._ ”

                Logan rolled his eyes at the youth and returned his focus to Jubilee, who was sitting on the pavement, effectively pouting. He reached down and grabbed her hand, hauling her to her feet. “Are you hurt?” he asked.

                “Nah, I’m fine—“

                He looked at her sternly. “Yer not _fine._ Yer _dead_ is what you are.” He looked back at Toad, “That little idiot just straggled you. Your _dead_ Jubilee. We’ve been over this a dozen times; you never let Toad get his tongue around anything he can _crush_ , do you understand?”

                “Yeah, but that stupid clothes rack fell on me—“

                “No excuses!” Logan barked, much to the other students surprise. Scott was approaching, tailed by Pitor, who were looking on in mild confusion. “I’m not always gonna be able to save you, little girl. You have to be _ready_. The Brotherhood doesn’t play nice, and the Sentinels aren’t going to feel sorry for you! You will be _dead_ , do you understand? You will be seventeen years old and _in the ground_. Do you understand what I’m telling you!?”

                “Logan, that’s enough.” Scott said stepping in.

                Jubilee looked on the edge of angry tears, glaring at the man who had become her father figure. “Why are you picking on me?!”

                “Because you’re not focusing!”

                “I _am!”_

                Scott stepped between them, “Program Terminate!” he called to the Danger Room. At once the simulation ended, and the ruins around them returned to the large empty shell of the virtual reality room. “Let’s call it a day, okay kids? Everyone go shower and wash up.”

                Jubilee stormed away, her friends following close behind, casting curious glances back at Logan and Scott, who remained where they were. Logan was still breathing somewhat heavily, coming down from the high of his battle rage by degrees. Scott was the last person he wanted to see right now.

                “Tactful as ever, Logan.” Scott sighed, folding his arms. “Do you really think she learned anything from that?”

                Logan turned away from him; “It’ll be too late to learn when she gets captured and tortured; or when we’re pulling her mangled little corpse out of a crater.” He muttered.

                “You don’t have to be so—“

                “What, honest?” Wolverine quipped. Cyclops sighed again heavily, and Logan recognized it as another step towards losing his patience with Logan. It usually took till sigh number four before he went off.

                “Even for _you_ , the aggression seems to be a little over the top. Jubilee was careless, yes, but she’s also operating as a team. The others should have stepped in if she was in trouble, yet you didn’t go off on any of them.”

                “You can’t count on other people to be there for you. You have to take care of yourself. If she waits around to be saved, chances are she’s gonna get someone else hurt too. I’m not gonna let her make that mistake.”

                Scott seemed slightly taken aback by the statement, saying nothing for a long moment. Logan took the silence and turned towards the door, stepping into the corridor beyond where everyone hung their gear before heading either to the showers or back out into the school.

                He shed his ruined shirt and tossed it into the large hamper between the benches and grabbed a bottle of water from the bench, dousing himself in it to wash off the blood and sweat before drinking the rest. When he looked up, Scott was standing next to him again.

                “You can count on me, Logan. You have to know that. No matter…no matter what’s happened. We’re teammates, first and foremost. That’s what matters.”

                Wolverine laughed in his face at the seriousness of his expression. “Oh my God, get over yourself.” He chuckled, grabbing a towel to wipe his face before heading towards the outside door. “I’m your ‘ _teammate’_ when no one else is around, or Jean’s giving you the cold shoulder. And in my book, that don’t make you very reliable.”

                His leader glared after him; “Why would you bring that up?”

                Wolverine shrugged; “I wouldn’t; except that you’ve been sniffing around me more than usual lately, giving Remy dirty looks. Acting jealous. Makes him uncomfortable, and it makes me a hell of a lot _more_ uncomfortable. Get it?”

                Scott almost smirked. “Is your relationship that fragile that Gambit sees me as threat?” He felt a little thrill of triumph go through him at the thought but he struggled not to show it.

                But Logan could hear every self-satisfied note in his tone of arrogance and it made him bristle. “Unlike you, Slim, I don’t have to worry about my man daydreaming about someone else. Remy’s still in recovery, and I don’t want you making him feel anymore unwelcomed than you already have.” He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Cause you know, I get that you’re _jealous_ , but that isn’t anyone’s problem but yours.”

                Scott’s hands balled into a fist. “You’re nothing to be jealous of, Logan. Your life is _sad_ at best. Falling from one partner to the next. Does Remy _know_ that you slept with Hank, or Storm? After only a few weeks of being here I might add.” His own name was on that list, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Not aloud. And that was what burned Logan most of all. That even after all this time Scott couldn’t even _say_ it.

                The shorter man stepped up to the taller brunette, glaring him down like a wolf. “You _had_ a chance, Summers, and you didn’t take it. So now you don’t get to act like I’m running around on you, like _you’re_ the one who’s been shafted.”

                Scott licked his lips, angry and nervous and painfully aroused. And Logan knew it. It had become a trigger for him; their fighting, their bickering. Every negative encounter with Wolverine somehow twisted itself around in his brain into a ravenous desire. He wanted Logan, desperately. And he could never forgive himself or the other man for that fact.

                “You know why I can’t.”

                “It’s not about her anymore,” Logan snarled giving the man a little push. “You _hide_ behind her. Why, I’ll never know. She obviously makes you miserable. But you’re too small a man to admit that, or admit what you really want. Who you _are.”_

_“How dare you--!”_

Logan cocked his own fist, claws ready. “ _Fuck you, Scott!_ I’m _happy_ ; alright? I’m _in love!_ Don’t you dare ever come to me with this shit again. _Ever!_ ”

                “Go to hell, Logan.”

                Wolverine turned and flipped him off as he did; “Every day with you _is_ hell, scooter.”

                Scott ground his teeth, watching the other mutant storm away, until finally he swallowed the rage inside his throat and let out a controlled blast from his visor which decimated the clothes hamper into a pile of ash. He bellowed in frustration, knowing no one could hear, and stormed towards the showers, tearing off his uniform as he went.

                He was furious; hurt and even worse; _frustrated._

                Alone in the showers he didn’t bother to hide or ignore his erection. It had started the moment their conversation had turned from barely civil to b threatening. Scott snarled, stepping into the spray of the shower and letting the water beat down on him full force.

                He leaned his head against the wall, already breathing hard as he fondled himself roughly. He hated that his relationship with Logan had devolved into this. He couldn’t stop wanting the man, no matter how it strained things between them, how it weakened their team at the core. And now that Gambit had entered the picture…

                Scott moaned, increasing his speed, thighs twitching as came closer to the edge. It was his own fault; he should have handled things differently, shouldn’t have been so quick dismiss what might have been something meaningful for both of them. Instead, he was only left with the memories.

 

***


	2. Chapter 2

 

***

 _Months earlier_ …

 

                A long day turned into an even longer night. Scott winced at the dull migraine that had formed at his temples and slowly moved inward to linger in his eye sockets before adding a throbbing pain at the back of his skull.

                He sat on the edge of the bed, unable to relax or will himself back to into the uneasy doze that had occupied him a short while ago. Beside him, Jean was sleeping soundly, exhausted from the day.

                Scott was almost glad; he didn’t want to have to explain himself, or have to smile through all her “helpful” suggestions of how to defeat the problem. Scott didn’t need Jean to _fix_ him. He wasn’t broken. Although, presently, he couldn’t have sworn to that statement.

                He slowly picked himself up out of bed, body aching, tired and longing for rest, still throbbing dully from today’s strains and stresses of training. It had been a regular training session between himself, Wolverine and a few of the other seasoned members of the X-Men. Logan was still getting used to the program; still getting used to working as a team. He wasn’t _completely_ miserable at it. But he’d put himself in needless danger, and when he’d been struck down, Scott had run to defend him. It had cost him; suffering minor injuries from several brutal blows dealt by Magento. And all for nothing; Logan ended up saving _him_. It was humiliating, the way the older man had mocked his needless heroism and need for attention and glory.

                Part of Scott wished vehemently that he had never stumbled across Wolverine that day; that he had never rescued him and Jubilee from the Brotherhood and so naively brought them into the fold. His world had been turned upside down ever since.

                Scott had never felt jealously like he had until Logan came into his life. The way he looked at Jean and the way she looked back… Scott had never sensed a threat like that before. He thought about the day’s earlier confrontation with Wolverine; warning him to “stay away from his girl”.

                It was stupid, childish. Why was he so threatened by Wolverine? Why did he trust Jean so little suddenly?

                These were the thoughts that had plagued him all day and into that night, leaving him wakeful and restless and in pain. Because the more he asked himself these questions, the more the questions began to warp themselves into new ways.

                Scott swallowed nervously, alone now in the hallway beyond their bedroom, staring into the dark. He glanced back nervously at the door, waiting for some sound of Jean waking up. He was afraid; afraid she might hear his thoughts just then.

                Hurriedly he grabbed a t-shirt and pulled it on, darting out of the rooms he shared with his girlfriend and making a hasty retreat through the mansion. It was early, maybe around 5 o’clock in the morning. None of the students, or even the staff were moving yet.

                He fell into one of his favored arm chairs near a window in the one of the upstairs common rooms. He sat and listened, outwardly and inwardly, finding his fingers were trembling and sweat had formed on the back of his neck. But there was still no sign of Jean.

                Scott put his throbbing head in his hands.

                He wasn’t _threatened_ by Logan. He was _attracted_ to him. Physically; sexually. Maybe even emotionally, though Scott couldn’t be certain on that one. He’d only known Logan a few days. _A few_ d _ays._ How was it possible that his life could fall apart that quickly?

                He felt lost, scared, and angry. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to have _those_ sort of feelings for men. He was straight; and even more than that, he was in a very committed relationship. One he had been perfectly content in just a few short days ago.

                But it didn’t seem likely that years of commitment could fall apart in three days time. In fact, it was impossible. Logan wasn’t a lightning strike that had struck down a strong healthy tree. He was more like a spring rain that caused an already battered and weathered dam to finally burst. It was silly to blame the rain…

                But Scott couldn’t help it.

                The migraine increased and he moaned in pain in frustration. He wanted this to go away, to go back to how things were before. He was happy then…wasn’t he?

                He jolted then when he heard a noise a somewhere in the dark and looked around frantically. Through the red lens of his visor he spotted Wolverine moving at the edge of the open room, bottle in hand.

                For a moment he seemed unaware of Scott, then he paused, and Scott swore he saw the man sniff the air before turning his head, looking straight at him across the dark, empty room. “Scooter. That you?”

                “Y-yeah.” Scott answered, voice suddenly dry and shaky.

                Wolverine crossed the room leisurely, blue eyes boring into him as he moved closer, making Scott sink further back into the chair. Logan stopped a few feet from him, observing him curiously, pausing to take a swig from the bottle in his hand. “You come here to brood often?” he asked, voice a bit more jovial than its usual gruff tones. “This where you sit in the moonlight and contemplate your immense responsibility?” he chuckled a bit, “You’re even serious at three in the morning. Now that’s dedication.”

                Scott glowered at him, but could muster none of his usual venom for the man. “Are you done?” he mumbled, still rubbing his throbbing head.

                “Yeah, yeah.” Wolverine nodded. He looked at Scott a bit more closely now; “Hey, you okay? Yer lookin’ a little shaky.” He offered the bottle in his hand to the younger man. “Need a swig?”

                Scott crinkled his nose in distaste. “No, thanks.” He muttered. “It’s just a headache.”

                Logan nodded thoughtfully and took a seat beside him in a neighboring chair, sinking back in it and taking another pull of whisky, keeping his eyes on the shivering man in front of him. “Sure yer girlfriend could take care of that for ya.”

                Cyclop’s frown deepened and he pulled a little further on himself. Logan sighed; “Look, slim, about earlier today…you don’t really have to worry about it. I may be a lot of things, but home-wrecker usually isn’t one of them.”

                “Usually?” Scott quipped.

                Logan smirked; “Well…everyone makes mistakes.” The bottle in his hand was more than half empty now. Scott was stunned, thinking Logan should have been on the floor in a puddle of his own puke by now with all that alcohol in his system, yet the bigger feral mutant barely seemed more than buzzed.

                “You and Jeanie been together long?”

                “Since we were teenagers.”

                Logan nodded appreciatively; “Damn. And she hasn’t gotten bored with you yet huh?”

                Scott glared and Logan laughed; “I’m _kidding_. Damn, unclench a little will ya? You squeeze any tighter and yer gonna be pulling diamonds outta yer ass, kid, just sayin’.”

                “And I suppose everyone should be like you?” Scott muttered.

                Logan took another longer drink. “No. No one should be like me, if they can help it.” He answered. He set the bottle down and leaned forward, looking Scott up and down before reaching out a hand and putting it on his shoulder. Scott flinched, and Logan raised his other hand.

                “Easy, easy…yer hurtin’. Migrane’s got your muscles in knots. Let me help.”

                If anything the knot in Scott’s muscles became tighter at the thought Logan touching him, but the mutant kept on, slowly kneading the tight coil beneath his skin, causing a small amount of pain initially, until the muscles began to yield under his touch.

                Scott sighed in spite of himself, relieved by the release and moved a little closer to Wolverine to allow him more access. “There ya go. Ya took quite the wallop today, unnecessarily I might add.”

                “I thought you were hurt.”

                “I got better.” Wolverine answered, “Or didn’t ya figure that out after ya dragged me off the smashed roof of my truck?” He paused and added; “But I guess I coulda thanked ya for tryin’ anyway. Not used to people stickin’ their necks out for me.”

                “That’s what the X-Men do.”

                Logan nodded, hands moving down his back, watching the way Scott responded so eagerly. Scott liked how strong Logan’s hands were, and even the rough texture of the pads of his fingers and palms. It was all so different. He liked giving over control, even in this small way, liked having someone else take care of him for a change.

                Jean wanted to mother him and coddle him, and it made him feel weak. He felt that same insecurity with Wolverine, until now. Somehow this was different, and he wasn’t quite sure how or why. Maybe alcohol softened Logan’s hard exterior enough to show he wasn’t just some crude drifter. He might actually be bearable in the right circumstance. And it was always interesting to be with someone with experience and prowess….

                Scott let out a little whimper and Logan stopped massaging him. He patted Scott’s back and stood up then, picking up his bottle and scratching the back of his neck nervously. “Well, better get on to bed now, slim. I heard Hank mention something about a four mile hike in the morning? Sounds thrilling.”

                “Yeah…” Scott nodded. “Hey, why are you up so late anyway?”

                Logan turned away, saying nothing, waving to him absently. “Go to bed, Scott. Massage parlor’s closed for the night.”

                Scott watched him leave, eyes lingering on the shorter man’s muscular silhouette until it vanished through darkened hallway. Scott felt himself gripped with a sudden burning urge, the kind that he hadn’t encountered in years. It was a deep, reckless, dangerous urge. The kind that was akin to the feeling of wanting to throw yourself off a high drop, knowing it would kill you.

                He shuddered, feeling a chill creep up his spine and a spasm go through his thighs and groin, making him shift uncomfortably as he swallowed. He pulled himself hurriedly from the chair and made his way across the common room, down the hall and darted into Xavier’s study.

                He shouldn’t’ be in here, not in the middle of the night, not to do what he was thinking about now. But disappointing his father figure was the least of his worries at present. He moved to the far corner of the study, next to the soft suede couch, coming to stand in front of a tall ornate cabinet that contained several expense bottles of liquor.

                Most were completely full, untouched. They were most likely gifts given by graduating students or old colleagues. Scott’s eyes scanned his options and chose the tallest bottle, which was frosted white, and seemed to the one least prized as it had been tucked in the back of the shelf. There were glasses, mixers, all sorts of other things for making drinks as well. Scott hastily grabbed what was closest—a martin glass, and turned to the large oak desk in the middle of the room and started to pour.

                He was sloppy and nervous, spilling little clear droplets here and there, knowing they will mar the wood varnish but not noticing or caring enough. He downed one glass, then another. It burned all the way down, but it was a pleasant burn that left him thirsty for more. Scott felt like he was seventeen again, awkward and horny and full of too many insecurities to handle.

                He _wanted_ Logan. He wanted to know what it would be like to kiss him, to feel those big rough hands touching his bare skin. He wondered what it would be like to have him lying over him, all that brawn and hard muscle, and if Logan would touch him the way that he touched himself. Would it be rough and quick; utilitarian and without nuance? Or would it be slower, more subtle, more measured? Scott groaned softly to himself thinking about it, feeling a hot throb between his legs that made his knees feel weak. He wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted sex this badly in his life; that he’d ever craved being _fucked_ like this before, especially not by a man he barely knew and practically hated.

                Scott was swallowing his third round when he began to feel the burn in his throat drift up to his head. He was getting drunk, and quickly. He hadn’t eaten dinner, and the Vodka was strikingly strong. He could already feel a tingling in his fingers and faint buzzing behind his eyes that was slowly replacing the dull throb of his stress migraine.

                The liquor steadied his shakes and numbed his pain…but it did nothing for the urge. In fact, it seemed to be slowly bringing it to a boil. By the fourth martini he knew there was no going back. In a few minutes he’d be blurry eyed and probably stumbling.

                But he would never forgive himself he went back to Jean like this. If he just gave up, resigned himself to the role everyone assumed he would take without ever asking him _once_ if this was what he really wanted. He had to confront Wolverine. He had to know, _for sure_ , if this urge was some strange aberration that would fade away, or if it was r _eal._

                Scott didn’t know which idea terrified him more.

                He left the bottle and the glass on the desk, half finished, and made for the door again. His head was feeling he, his eyelids slightly too heavy. A warm numbness was very slowly crawling its way up his legs, forcing him to have to think a little harder about each movement.

                But after a few short twist and turns, he found himself at Logan’s door. Inside he could hear music playing and faint movement. He knocked on the door, a bit too loudly. “Wolverine? Hey! Hey Wolverine! You—“

                The door came open and Logan peered at him from the other side, looking confused, groggy and faintly annoyed. “Thought you went to bed.” He muttered, voice thick and slightly halted, like he was bordering on very drunk or had just fallen asleep before Scott knocked. “You get lost or somethin’?”

                Scott glared down at him, “I practically grew up here. I don’t get _lost._ ” He looked Logan up and down and noticed that the man shirtless, and wearing only a loose pair of lounge pants with the school logo on them. He must have been getting ready to finally turn in for the night. Scott’s thoughts conjured the image of Wolverine lying in bed with nothing between him and the sheets and he felt himself throb slightly with excitement.

                “You and I need to _talk_ , Logan.” Scott said, managing to squeeze his way inside the room while Logan stared after him, slowly closing the door behind him, sighing tiredly.

                “Sure, _now_ you wanna talk.” He grumbled. He studied Scott, who stood in the middle of his room like he owned the place, glaring around at the sparse adornments and furnishings. Logan had done little to settle into the place since his arrival, like he hadn’t decided if he was going to stay or not. The only homey feature was the man’s leather jacket draped on the back of an arm chair across from the bed.

                The dark haired feral stepped a little closer to the taller man and sniffed him and then winced, leaning away. “Holy shit, did you fall into a vat of Vodka? That headache must have been worse than I thought.” He muttered, but his eyes lingered a little while on Scott, obviously having noticed something else about him as well. Feral mutants were supposed to possess animal like qualities with smell and instincts. Scott wondered if Logan could tell that he was aroused, though for the moment he was able to hide the physical evidence.

                “Why did you come here?” Scott demanded, turning on him expectantly, trying to maintain focus and remember why else he had come here. Logan blinked, waiting for some further explanation but none came.

                “You _brought_ me here, Summers. Not that I asked ya to. Look, like I told you before, you don’t need to worry about Jean—“

                “Don’t say her name!” Scott spat, not intending to sound as forceful as he did, but going with it. “This isn’t about her. It’s about you…what are you about Logan?”

                Wolverine snickered, raising eyebrow. “Jesus. Okay, kid, come on, let’s get ya back to Jeanie.” He put his hand on Scott’s arm only to have it slapped away forcefully. Logan sighed, and reached for him again, and Scott punched him in the face.

                Logan blinked away the sting of it, rubbing his cheek bone and snarled at the brunette. “Alright, Scooter, yer treadin’ thin ice now. I’ve tried to be the nice guy, what more do you—“

                Scott lunged at him, grabbing Logan by the shoulders and pulling him forward. Wolverine half expected the man to head-butt him, but instead he leaned in and kissed him harshly, teeth knocking together with the force of collision, Scott’s tongue trying to force it’s way between his lips. Wolverine allowed it out of sheer shock for a few seconds, then growled and forced the man back, knocking him onto his bed.

                “The _hell_ is the matter with you!?” he barked, wiping his face reflexively, muscles tense, and eyes shockingly wide, startled and more than a little confused.

                Scott remained where he had fallen on the mattress, panting and glaring up at Logan with this strange mix excitement and nervousness and anger that had the feral’s senses very muddled.

                “Me? What’s the matter with _me?!_ You waltz in here, and suddenly you’re _so_ _special_ , like a Goddamn unicorn!”

                Logan wanted to laugh, but Scott kept on, facing getting redder as he grew more irate; “You got everyone’s attention, don’t you? _Jean’s_ , the Professor’s, _Hank’s_ …”

                “Hank?”

                “Shut up!” Scott bounded off the bed and was at him again, but Logan knocked him back all too easily. “Well now you’ve got _my_ attention, _Wolverine_! And what are you gonna do about it, huh?”

                “Get off me,” Logan muttered, throwing him back again, sending Scott sprawling this time. He leaned over the younger man, claws bared, face hard and serious, though his eyes were faintly glassy with his own intoxication. “You listen to me you little _prick_ , you got some weird repressed bullshit going on, that’s _your_ problem. Don’t you go blamin’ yer _urges_ on me!”

                Scott thrashed underneath him, trying to punch at him again, but Logan held him down. “I _hate_ you! I _HATE_ you!”

                Logan threw him off the bed and let him fall to the floor. Scott tried to get up but he was overcome with dizziness and simply fell again, hunched on all fours, letting his head sink between his elbows, panting heavily.

                “Why…why does she want you?” he asked then, more quietly. Logan remained watching him front the edge of the bed. “I love her, but I can’t…I don’t make her happy anymore. And all I can think about it…is you. Why you? Why are you so…so…?”

                The words wouldn’t come out, they kept getting lost on the way to his lips. He buried his face between his arms for a moment. “You’ve been in my head since we found you…and I hate it…I hate that I can’t make it go away. It’s not her I’m worried about; it’s me. I hate that I want to be around you, I hate that I want to kiss you…and your stupid, beautiful dumb face…”

                Logan grabbed him by the back of his shirt and hoisted him off the ground, pulling him and up and propping him against the wall, glaring up at him. Scott stood half a head higher than him at full height, but right now the man could barely stay upright.

                The Wolverine said nothing for a few seconds, just glaring hard into Scott’s face, studying him, looking past the screen of this visor at his eyes and seeming to note every little breath and twitch before speaking again. “Why’d you come here, Summers? You just need to get something off your chest? Or did you have something else in mind?”

                Scott swallowed nervously, feeling his adam’s apple bob in his throat. But Logan’s gaze didn’t waver, not for a second. Mustering whatever blind courage he could grasp at, Scott hooked his finger around the hem of Logan’s pants and pulled him closer. “I wanna fuck.”

                Logan exhaled a little deeper and he moved one hand from the wall next to Scott’s head to run his thumb across the man’s lips, earning a little gasp in response. “That so?”

                “Yes,” Scott answered, quietly and lustfully, swaying his hips closer to Logan’s in an effort to gain more contact.

                “I go rough, kid. You never been with a man; might not be able to handle it.”

                Scott leaned in, grabbing Logan’s face between his hands and kissing him again, with a bit more care and precision this time, grinding up against the man who had him flattened to the wall. His tongue thrust its way between Logan’s lips and teeth, clashing with his and exploring, hungry for more contact. Logan kissed him back, falling into the lead quickly, kissing Scott in the rough commanding manner that left the younger X-Men instantly breathless.

                Logan reached between them and ran a hand down Scott’s chest, pushing the t-shirt up to better get at his skin. The pads of his fingers and his palm brushed over one of his nipples and made Summer’s moan into his mouth, hips bucking forward again. Logan smoothed his hand down his skin, rough and stuttering, fingers scraping along defined lines of muscle, sliding around Scott’s hip to grab at the younger man’s ass, which he dug his fingers into and squeezed.

                Scott groaned again, pulling back from Logan’s mouth to take a breath, and Logan moved that same hand back around to cup him in his hand, squeezing lightly.

                “Oh God, oh God!”

                Wolverine studied his face, sensing picking up on Scott’s rising heart rate and body temperature, not to mention the scent of his arousal and the deep red flush of blood that colored his otherwise pale skin. The look was possessive and masterful, but Logan wasn’t trying to raise a challenge, he was simply looking for warning signs, anything that might tell him Scott didn’t want this as much as he claimed.

                “Your hands are so damn big,” Scott found himself stuttering, feeling Logan palm him, balls and all, without much effort.

                Logan grinned in that wolfish way, “You like my hands, hmm?” He squeezed and tugged him and Scott whined, pushing his hips forward, trying to get more contact. Wolverine leaned up against him, pinning Scott to the wall, fondling him through the thin fabric of his shorts, feeling everything and already reducing the young X-Men into a quivering mass under him. “What else do you like?”

                He yanked Scott’s shorts down over his thighs, allowing him to fall free, and Scott gave a quick sharp gasp of surprise at the rush of air on his hot skin. Logan grabbed him again, curling his thick fingers around him, moving slowly up and down.

                “Oh…oh fuck! Dammit Logan, don’t tease me!”

                Wolverine leaned in and planted his lips to Scott’s neck and bit down, sucking and biting, pulling away to reveal a bright red bruise that wouldn’t fade any time soon. Scott shouted, feeling the spot and glaring at him through his visor.

                “Why’d you do that?! Everyone will see it!”

                Logan slowed his hand, staring up at him again; “That bother you?” he growled. “Don’t want anyone to know you shacked up with a mangy grifter like me?” He squeezed him more tightly, stroking him a bit more quickly and Scott let out another lustful whimper.

                Summers growled, pushing his hands away from the wall and grabbing Logan’s shoulders, thrusting him back. Logan thought the man would push him away completely, but instead he staid latched on, pushing Logan until they collided with the dresser, rattling the mirror that was attached and forced his leg between Wolverine’s, trying to push the man backwards over the edge.

                Logan marveled vaguely at the younger man’s strength; he was no easy object to move, his adamantium skeleton making him quiet heavy. But Scott was managing. Logan was forced to lean back over the edge of the wood as Summers sloppily and angrily devoured his mouth before moving down to his chin and neck, hands fighting to get Logan out of his clothes.

                The dark haired man chuckled at his ambition; he had to admit, Scott’s inability to back down from him was half his charm. But he was not about to let Cyclops call the shots in this situation. He would never hear the end of it if he did.

                He did, however, let the younger man get an eyeful of what he was packing, watching his expression change from greedy lust to quivering astonishment.

                “Oh my fucking God…”

                “Still think you can handle this, kid?” Logan asked heatedly, reaching up to yank Scott down on top of him, bringing them flush together and kissing him hard. He dug his hands into Scott’s ass, feeling the man quiver in response when Logan squeezed and clenched.

                “Not so hard!” Scott yelled, wrenching away from another sloppy kiss. “You’ll leave marks!”

                Logan grinned and pinched him harder, set on leaving bruises with his finger prints. “You fuck with me, you get _marked_ , princess! I warned ya before this started!”

                Scott snarled and leaned down to bite Logan harshly on the shoulder, actually making the older man shout in surprise and pain. They rolled off the dresser and crashed to the floor, the resulting thud causing the lamp on the end table to rattle.

                Scott straddled Logan, forcing his thighs down and grabbed him hard with both hands, jerking rough and fast, making Wolverine wince.

                “Ah! Dammit stop, ya tryin’ to tear it off!?” Logan barked, raising a hand and pushing the man off him with ease before rolling over on top of him, pinning him lightly by the neck. Scott tried to twist away, but Logan grabbed his thigh roughly and made him be still. “You trying to fuck or fight, Summers? Make up yer mind!”

                “You called me princess!”

                “Cause ya are, ya prissy little brat!” Logan snapped back. “You wanna be treated otherwise, you have to earn it. Either you’re with me, or not. _Decide_.”

                Scott was panting, all too aroused and unable to free himself from Logan’s hold. “I want you to fuck me,” he rasped. “So fuck me!”

                Logan snorted and lifted himself up, giving Scott’s naked ass a hard slap that made the leaner man shout in surprise. “Get up,” he commanded. “On yer knees, Summers.”

                “You don’t order me around—!” he started, but Logan grabbed his face and looked at him sternly.

                “In this room, in this moment, I _do._ ” He growled. “Get on your knees.”

                Scott shivered, feeling a hot thrill run through him at the way Logan spoke and obeyed finally, sitting up on his knees. Wolverine nodded and moved to seat himself on the edge of the chair in front of him. Scott had an idea where this was going and he licked his lips nervously, trying to keep his hands from touching himself at the thought.

                Logan was so thick, he wasn’t even sure he could get his mouth around him, at least, not without gagging. The thought excited him and terrified him at the same time, all of it rushing around with the haze of Vodak in his mind.

                The shorter man guided him to sit between his legs. “Need ya to slick me up,” he mumbled. “Feeling up to that?”

                Scott nodded, bowing his head, but Logan stopped him, catching his chin. “Hey…go slow. Don’t need ya chokin’ on it.”

                Summers glared at him for the comment and more for the little smirk that followed as he squeezed his fingers into Logan’s thighs and dropped his head down against his body, hesitating just above him and nervously kissing the heated skin of his cock.

                But Logan sighed, softly, almost inaudibly, and Scott grew bolder, flicking out the tip of his tongue and letting it brush lightly over his head. Logan twitched in response, and Scott did it again, slower, more softly.

                Amazingly Wolverine seemed to actually get harder under the light teasing contact, and his hand, which was resting lightly but firmly on the back of Scott’s neck slid and gripped his shoulder in such a way that Scott knew he’d gained some leverage.

                As Logan instructed, he went slow, taking his time, pacing himself as he got used to the taste of another man, of the smell of sweat and musk and skin, feeling Logan begin to melt and tense all at once under the treatment. Scott teased him, licking and opening his mouth wider to entice the man to thrust into his mouth, but pulling away at the last second until Logan actually _growled_ at him.

                “Fuck…guess you learn fast…” he moaned, voice thick and thread y and eyes a darker shade of blue beneath his hooded lids. Seeing Logan this way made Scott ache and throb again, and he moved one hand from Logan’s thigh down between his own again, developing a quick pace that soon had him gasping and moaning against Logan’s hot skin, building pleasure driving him to be braver, taking Logan into his mouth fully for the first time.

                “Oh _fuck_ …!” Wolverine hissed, hand suddenly in Scott’s hair, pressing his head down lower so that the younger man had to open wider to accommodate the man’s girth as he struggled not to thrust all the way back into his throat. He winced, feeling his jaw ache, but it was worth it and he adjusted quickly, sucking and bobbing his head up and down, feeling Logan start to shake.

                Then suddenly Wolverine yanked him back, dragging Scott up to kiss him and pull him into his lap. His hands were squeezing Scott’s ass again, spreading him and making Scott gasp, feeling Logan press against him. He started to shake, unsure of what came next, half expecting the man to force him down and tear him apart.

                But Logan’s right hand was suddenly fumbling frantically in the drawer of the stand next to them, digging through papers and various nonsense until he produced a small tube of lubricant. Logan looked up at him as he clumsily undid the cap. “ You stay put, and try to relax.” He squeezed some of the clear contents onto his fingers until they were wet and slippery with it and then moved between his legs, fingers pushing lightly at the ring of muscle beyond.

                Scott shuddered, digging his nails into Logan’s neck and shoulders hard as he remained straddling him in the chair. “You ever let Jean finger you?” Logan asked.

                “No! That’s disgusting!” Scott barked, even as he felt Logan’s index finger start to push inside him and he shivered and groaned.

                Wolverine leaned in and left a harsh love bite that encircled his nipple, making Scott rock backwards and forwards in shock, allowing him to drive a little deeper.

                “Yer such a terribly repressed little man, Summers,” Logan snarled. “Yer begging me to fuck yer tight little ass but you think it’s disgusting at the same time…yer pissing me off.” He pushed deeper and Scott moaned loudly, rocking back against his touch, trying to get more contact.

                Logan watched him squirm, enamored by the sight, realizing that if he started stroking Scott with his other hand he’d have the kid spent in seconds. But he wasn’t getting off that easy. He stretched and scissored his fingers, already pushed to the knuckle inside the other man, until he felt the muscles start to loosen enough to test them further.

                Scott was trying to touch himself, but Logan kept pushing his hand away, denying him direct contact until the brunette was practically irate. “Dammit, dammit, I’m close…I’m close let me—“

                “Don’t be so fuckin’ selfish,” Logan muttered, pushing him down a little further so that he could position himself between Scott’s legs, removing his fingers allowing his head to press there instead. Scott shivered. “Or did ya forget about me already?”

                The smaller man replied by grinding down against him, managing to force the head of Logan’s shaft inside of him. That alone was enough to make him curse and cry out, head falling back. Wolverine held his hips and refused to let him twist away or push further. He needed a moment to savor how tight the man was, and that he was actually driving Logan insane the way he was shivering and trying to twist on top of him. He could slam Summers down and give them both exactly what they wanted in three pumps or less. But that wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying as hearing Scott beg him for it.

                Logan thrust upward, shallowly, sending a ripple through the other man that made him gasp again. He watched Scott’s expression intently, noting the change between surprise, bliss and pain and back again as he slowly shifted deeper inside him.

                About halfway down however, Scott clenched his teeth and squeezed his shoulders so hard Logan thought he might tear his arms off. He stilled, suddenly afraid he’d hurt the man. But before he could ask if he was okay, the man surprised him by lifting his hips high, almost completely dislodging himself, before slamming himself down all the way onto Logan’s cock.

                Both men bellowed, Logan wide eyed and gaping as heat and tightness overwhelmed him, while Scott cursed and sighed and howled before rising up and doing it again, hard enough this time to rattle both of them.

                “SCOTT!” Logan shouted, feeling like he was about go over the edge, only to have the brunette grab him by the hair, yanking his head back, grinning madly into his face as he rode the man roughly and jarringly.

                “Now who’s calling the shots, Logan!? Huh!? Who’s –ah fuck!, oh shit!—calling the shots!?”

                Logan couldn’t make words, eyes rolling up for a moment as he came in spite of himself under Scott’s harsh pace, spilling inside the man, who’s eyes widened at the sensation, squeezing himself around him to draw it out.

                Scott had never seen another man come before. He liked the way Logan seemed to drift away for a moment, caught somewhere between pain and pleasure, unable to make any sound except for the stuttering gasp that was still leaving his lips, and how his cheeks were so warm and flushed and he looked softer somehow.

                Scott was hooked then. He would never get over that face, or that fact that he had caused it. It was a rush of power and excitement and lust like he’d never experienced. Logan was still coming down, hips still stuttering underneath him as he leaned in to kiss his lips, pulling him in close.

                He did not expect Logan to grab him bodily and roll with him into the floor, making Scott almost scream at the way their entangled bodies continued to collide before yanking himself away, glaring at him. “You little—“

                Scott gave him a shit-eating grin; “Not so bad for a _princess_ huh?”

                A thought passed through his mind then that he must be crazy…why was he taunting Wolverine, belittling him, glorifying his quiet accidental skill             as if Logan were a fool to ever suspect otherwise? Why, even now, did he have this horrible need to make Logan feel beholden to him? What the hell was _wrong_ with him?

                But before the thoughts could form into any sort of coherency, Logan had flipped him over on his stomach and had mounted him from behind, slamming forward hard enough to actually bring tears to Scott’s eyes as pleasure-pain jolted up his spine enough to make him cry out.

                “AH! AH, Yes! Yes! Wolverine! Wolverine please…please! Harder! _Harder!_ ”

                Logan continued to pound into him, grabbing his hips to keep him in place as Scott jolted and squirmed under him. “Ya want me to pound that tight virgin ass of yours?!” Logan snarled behind him, breathless and already on edge again the way Scott was pushing back against him and squirming. “Cause I’m happy to do just that, Summers! I’ll wreck ya, ya won’t be walkin’ tomorrow, or the next day when I’m done! You want that?!”

                “YES! Oh Fuck YES!”

                Logan pushed his head down and rammed harder until Scott was doing more than howling under him, one hand desperately grabbing his own throbbing erection as Logan kept driving into him relentlessly.

                “Fuck me, fuck me dammit Logan! _LOGAN! LOGAN!”_

Wolverine felt the younger man clench and shudder, hearing him sob out a sigh of release as he splattered the carpet under them. Logan kept driving onward, pushing Scott into what must have been an elusive second orgasm because the man was screaming unintelligibly and shaking so hard Logan could barely stand it before he sighed and found himself emptying a second time into the other man.

                The moment the hardest waves passed, Logan dislodged and dropped back, letting Scott sink to the floor, a quaking puddle of skin and bones, shining with sweat, pink and bruised and rasping for air.

                “Holy shit…holy _shit._ ” Was all he could manage, coming down from high, head buzzing slightly from the drop of endorphins and pheromones. There was no sound at all for a few minutes except the shivering rasps for air that escaped the two of them. Scott did not move to right himself, he either did not have the will or the energy.

                Logan crawled over him, gently nudging the man and pressing his palm lightly to his back, “Scott? Hey, you okay kid?” He rolled the thinner man over so that he could look at his face. Scott blinked back at him from behind his visor but his eyes seemed glazed, expression distant.

                Wolverine picked him, earning a little whimper from the man and put him on the bed, hastily looking the younger man over, checking for injury. “You’re okay slim,” Logan continued. “Just keep breathin’. You’ll feel better in a bit.”

                Scott nodded dimly, seemingly unable to speak, still quivering and shaking slightly. He’d never experienced an orgasm like that in his life, and the aftermath had left him feeling like he was falling from a great height. Logan left his side for a moment, causing a momentary panic to rise in his chest, only to return a minute later with a warm wet washcloth, which he used to clean him.

                The older man said nothing, going about his work with quiet expertise and Scott allowed himself to be clay in his hand; easily moved and manipulated. A more simple part of his mind had already given over to this new role, wanting to stay just as he was, letting Logan do whatever he wanted with him, whenever, without question. But other parts were starting to clear and click back into place, erasing his bliss and contentment with sudden fear and regret.

                Once he was clean, Logan tossed the cloth to the floor and laid down next to Scott, putting his head on his shoulder and draping an arm over his chest as he pulled a blanket over the two of them. “Dammit, kid…you wore me out!” he chuckled softly, smiling against Scott’s skin. He glanced out the window across from the bed; it was still dark and still outside. They could sleep for an hour or two before the staff and students started to rouse for the day.

                But Scott was suddenly shifting under him, pulling away from him and wincing as he did so. Logan looked up groggily; “What’s wrong?” he mumbled.

                Scott didn’t answer, easing himself off the bed in halted little movements as he searched for his clothes. He hurriedly pulled on his shorts and shirt, cursing and gasping softly in pain as he did, soreness in his muscles slowly announcing themselves.

                “I have to get back before Jean wakes up.”

                Logan remained on the bed, watching him, expression flat. “Sure,” he muttered. He rolled away from Scott, pulling the blanket over himself. “Ya might want to shower before hopping back into bed with her. Sure she won’t need my sense of smell to notice the way you stink.”

                Scott turned back to him, frowning deeply, but Logan wasn’t looking at him at all and seemed to have dismissed him entirely. “Look, this needs to stay between us.”

                “Sure thing, slim.” Logan muttered.

                Cyclops felt an angry pinch in his chest and stomach that made him shift nervously. Logan wasn’t being the least bit confrontational about this, and somehow that made him anxious, even suspicious. This of course, was just a lie to cover what the feeling _really_ was. Guilt.

                “I _mean_ it, Wolverine. This…she can’t know about this. It’s not personal, it’s just…people _expect_ certain things of me, you know? And I can’t let them down. I need to be a role model, I need to—“

                Logan rolled over and looked at him in a tired, bitter way. “You through? I’d like to get some sleep.”

                Scott blinked, surprised at his cavalier attitude. “You’re not…you’re not mad?”

                “You’re not worth being angry over,” the feral muttered. “Turn off that light on the way out. And I’m serious about the shower…”

                Scott felt that pinch intensify and laughed a little, shaking his head as he turned towards the door. “Right. What was I worried about? You probably do this all the time.”

                Logan said nothing and Scott slipped out the door and turned off the light, leaving him alone in the dark.

 

**


	3. Chapter 3

 

**

 

                A short while later, Logan managed to pull himself from the bed and make his way out into the world again. He ignored his own advice and hadn’t showered, leaving Scott’s scent lingering on his skin. It was a small consolation, he supposed. Already he’d fallen into the familiar pattern of behavior he’d acquired over the last few years of wandering.

                He slept with whomever, whenever, and he enjoyed the ride, though he never expected it to last. Most times, he didn’t even want it to. Getting close to anyone had proven to be dangerous in the past, it created a trail, a trail that the monsters who had created him were usually able to follow sooner or later.

                Scott wasn’t going to be any different, he realized. All he could hope for was that this might ease the tension between them, let them both breathe. Summers would go back to his white picket fence with Jean, and Logan would remain on the periphery of their world, looking in. At least Jean would be safe that way. They would _both_ be safe that way.

                He swallowed what little remained of his regret as he made his way into the staff’s kitchen for some coffee. Hank was there, in his usual spot at the booth in front of the large bay window, reading his paper and sleepily slurping his morning brew, his glasses perched on the wide brim of his muzzle.

                The blue furred mutant looked up at him with a drowsy smile; “Good morning, Logan. You’re up early today.” He paused, gold eyes roaming over Logan’s tussled figure. “Rough night?”

                Logan grunted quietly and reached for a mug above his head, pouring himself a hefty dose of black gold before slumping over the counter and slurping it down. “Meh…guess so.” He muttered. Hank continued to eye him measuredly over the edge of his glasses. Logan seemed too groggy to realize that Hank must surely smell Scott’s scent on him and had already guessed that _something_ had transpired between them.

                A moment later, both men turned their attentions to the sound of Scott and Jean entering the kitchen. Scott was visibly limping, hissing and bemoaning the pain that seem to be emanating from his thighs and lower back. Jean was helping him along, cooing to him in that sweet wifely way of hers as she eased him into a soft chair on the other side of the counter.

                “Goodness, Scott, are you alright?” Hank asked, raising a brow in concern.

                “Fine, Hank,” Scott said sheepishly. He kept tugging nervously at the collar of his shirt, as if he couldn’t get it close enough around his neck.

                “He had an awful nightmare last night, twisted his back falling out of bed,” Jean said quickly, making two cups of coffee for both of them and hurrying back to her fiancé , pecking him lovingly on the forehead as she handed him his cup. “Poor thing.”

                Logan refused to look up at them, caught somewhere between insult and growing amusement. This was surely the _worst_ cover up for a “sex sprain” he’d ever heard in his life, yet Jean seemed to have bought into wholly. The woman looked over to him, perhaps sensing something from him.

                “Good morning, Logan.” She said warmly, but somewhat shyly.

                “Mornin’, Jeanie.” He answered her, letting his eyes flicker up to meet hers. He expected to be hit with guilt the moment he looked into her face. Instead he saw a rather different expression; a secretive, flirtatious one that made his throat feel dry.

                “You look like you had a restless night too.” She added, chuckling softly. She stood up to get some cream and sugar for herself, pausing to toy with one of the wild black locks of his hair. Logan couldn’t help but sway towards her, almost wanting to nuzzle into her palm. This woman had a pull on him that he couldn’t explain; all he knew was that it was trouble.

                His eyes glanced in Scott’s direction and he felt the other man glaring back at him through the dark red lenses of his visor. _Both_ of them were nothing but trouble.

                “I’ll be fine.” He added, looking back down at his drink as she moved away and tucked herself back beside Scott again, who kissed her cheek and her ear and gave her a squeeze that made her giggle.

                The display made Logan’s stomach turned. Scott didn’t need to rub it in, or lay it on so damn thick. The bigger question of course, seemed to be _who_ the display was for exactly. Was he trying to prove that last night was already a thing of the past, readily forgotten, or was he trying to keep Jean from noticing how he kept staring at the feral man across the counter.

                Logan finished his first cup and started on his second; it already looked like a four-coffee, six-whiskey sorta day to him. Jean glanced at the clock and extracted herself from Scott’s arm, saying that she needed to get ready for her class.

                “I’ll miss you,” Summers cooed, kissing her before she sauntered off. Logan felt her staring at his backside as she past, and said nothing, ignoring the rest of the room as he crept off to find a corner where he could sulk and drink his damn coffee in peace.

                There was another nook around the curve of the large open dining area, and he tucked himself into the window seat and drained his second cup to the half way point in three big gulps. It did nothing to rouse him and he considered simply going back to his room and staying there in the wreckage of his bed for the rest of the day. He had nothing better to do.

                Scott sat down beside him, his own cup in his hand. “So I see your hair just does that pointed thing naturally,” he began, voice slightly more friendly than its usual stiff tones.

                Logan grunted at him.

                “Thanks for…not saying anything. I wasn’t sure if you would—“

                “If she wants to know, I’m sure she’ll get the answers out of you.” Logan cut in. “Though she seems pretty intent _not_ to know.” He smirked at him, “You ‘ _fell out of bed’? That’s_ what you went with?”

                Scott’s expression dimmed a little, and Logan ignored it. He wasn’t in the mood to spare Scott’s feelings, or nurse his insecurities about his woman.

                “We’re starting a new program with the students in the Danger Room today,” his companion said then. “It might be good for you to come; see some of dynamics of the group, get some practice in of your own.”

                Logan paused thoughtfully, noting that Scott genuinely seemed to want him there. He wanted to take that as a good sign; that things were going to change for the better now. “Yeah. Maybe I’ll drop in.”

                Scott smiled, and Logan admitted that the kid w _as_ pretty damn handsome, in that clean-cut all American hero sort of way.

                But then Scott’s hand slipped to his knee and squeezed it lightly before moving upward, stroking his thigh. “Great! Then maybe afterward we could…”

                Logan glared at the intruding palm upon his person as though _he_ were the one with lazor eyes and then turned that same glare onto the man’s face. “You really don’t want to finish that sentence.”

                Scott didn’t move his hand, but he blinked and let out a little scoffing, nervous laugh. “What? I thought you said everything was fine?” He leaned closer, actually daring to kiss Logan’s neck, just below the ear, hands squeezing his leg. “I’m getting hard just thinking about it.”

                Logan grabbed his hand and twisted it, earning a yelp of pain and surprise from Scott, before being tossed back against the window as the feral lifted himself from his seat. “I’m going to give you a _pass_ on that one, Scooter. Mostly cause I don’t think yer actually _smart_ enough to know what yer suggesting to me right now. Cause if you _were_ smart enough, I’da put ya _through_ that window, face first.”

                Scott blinked back at him and then started laughing; “Oh, oh my _God._ Are you _threatening_ me?”

                Logan showed him his middle claw. “What’s it look like to you?”

                Cyclops cocked his head, looking at Logan with that smug, arrogant gaze that incensed the feral every time he saw it. “I thought we moved past this last night, Logan. I thought we understood each other better.” He stood up, looking down at the smaller man, arms folded. “I thought you understood what last night was.”

                “Yeah; a big drunken mistake,” Wolverine replied. “And I was willin’ ta let it go when you walked out last night. But you can’t strut around here with Jean, pretending to be Mr. Perfect, and then expect to have me come running at the snap of your fingers, Summers. I’m not gonna be yer man on the side. It ain’t fair to Jean.”

                “You didn’t seem to care about Jean last night.” He had backed Logan up against the wall, leaving very little room between the two of them, “We can make this work…don’t you think? I know you wanted it as bad as I did last night…I can still feel you in me. Logan, I’ve never felt like that before…please don’t take it away.”

                Logan shivered slightly, glaring up at the man who was taking up all the space around him at the moment with his body heat and the smell of his skin and hair and fresh washed clothes. “Ye gotta make a choice, Scott. I’m not a home wrecker. You either come clean with Jeanie and we’ll go from there, or you let it go, right now. Anything besides that only ends in everyone getting hurt.”

                “Didn’t think you _got_ hurt,” Scott replied, leaning in and kissing his cheek. Logan snarled, pushing him back.

                “Dammit, Scott, I ain’t yer fuckin’ rent boy and I ain’t yer guilty pleasure! This is over, _done_ , do you get it?!” he snarled.

                Scott seemed startled, hurt by the anger and rejection in Logan’s voice. He’d taken such a risk last night, giving into that secret part of himself. The idea that it could be ripped away so quickly left him feeling terrified, vulnerable and desperate. And desperate people do stupid things.

                He glared down at Logan again, more menacingly this time as his sudden fear of rejection and abandonment sparked something like madness in him; “ _You_ started this,” he sneered. “I was _drunk_ and I came to you, I put everything out on the line, and you sure as hell didn’t waste any time taking advantage of it.”

                Logan gawked at him incredulously, hardly believing Scott had balls big enough to try this. But he wasn’t finished yet. Summers yanked aside the collar of his shirt, revealing the bruises and teeth marks Wolverine had left on his neck and shoulders, “ _You_ did this. You _wanted_ this, and now you’re changing your mind? Did you sleep with me thinking that Jean wouldn’t take me back? Is that what you wanted?”

                _“Fuck you,_ Summers—“ Logan pushed him, but Scott pushed right back, harder than he expected.

                “You don’t get to walk away from this like nothing _happened_ , Logan. If you do, I’ll tell her what you did to me. I’ll tell her I was too drunk to know what I was doing…what will she think of you then?”

                Wolverine was very still, saying nothing, just staring, and Scott was still pinning him against the wall, panting and fuming, eyes too bright behind his visor and faintly wet with frustrated tears. “I _need_ you,” he rasped. “If I can’t come to you…I don’t know what I’ll do. Logan… _please._ ”

                He fell against Logan, wrapping his arms around him, suddenly overwhelmed. Logan did nothing, simply standing there, frozen and tense. Eventually, he pushed Scott aside and moved away. “You’ll figure it out.” Was all he said as he excused himself from the kitchen.

                “Don’t walk away from me…don’t you _dare_ walk away!”

               

                Wolverine kept going, feet carrying him numbly out into the main corridor of the school as students filed hurriedly into their class rooms. He passed Jubilee, who gave him a strange glare, though he didn’t quite register it.

                There was an awful taste in the back of his throat, and he realized it was something akin to disgust and outrage, but somehow duller, thicker. Disappointment.

                He was moving up the stairs, now intent on packing his bags and getting out of here, maybe for a day, maybe for a week, maybe forever. He didn’t need this, and he certainly didn’t ask for it. Maybe he did, coming in here and expecting to be anything more than an outsider. _This was what trusting people got ya_ , he reminded himself _. A load of shit ya didn’t need_.

                “Logan! LOGAN!”

                Scott’s voice was high, angry, and tremulous. A dangerous combination. Logan didn’t turn, he couldn’t look at the kid anymore, he couldn’t stand smelling the shame and fear and desire that was pouring off him like bad cologne, making his head hurt and his heart twinge.

                He was within two steps of the landing when he felt the heat from Cyclop’s blast strike him in the back. It burned. _GOD_ it _burned_! He pitched forward, realizing the blast had cut through his shirt and skin and well into his muscles. He crashed against the back wall between the two sets of stairs, hissing and moaning in pain, smelling singed skin and hair.

                Scott was running up the stairs after him and Logan, blinking away the haze of pain, drew his claws.

                Scott hit him again, this time in the chest and Logan bellowed as the same feeling ripped through his stomach and up his torso, fighting against the force of it until he could roll clear, causing Scott to put a massive whole in the wall.

                Below and above, students were screaming as they scrambled to get out of the way. Wolverine, bloody and singed, leapt up from the floor and lunged at Cyclops, claws at the ready. Scott received the blunt side of his fist across the face, making blood spurt from his nose, and a slash across the thigh that made him yelp and buckle, rolling backwards.

                They went together down the stairs and Scott fired again, but the shot went wide and struck the ceiling, sending a chunk of it falling down on top of them. Wolverine managed to dislodge himself, shaking the dust and plaster and blood from his face and made to attack…

                Only to be seized by a crippling pain so intense he could not find its equal. Jean—Jean was in his head. She had appeared behind him, hearing the screams and shouts of the students. She had arrived on the scene only in time to see Logan and Scott falling down the stairs, and then to see Wolverine leap to attack.

                She only saw her lover in peril; and she reacted accordingly.

                Logan could not even manage a scream. Jean had accessed a part of his brain that was filled horrific memories, memories of what Stryker had done to him in that lab. It felt like it was happening again, all of it, the pain of the needles drilling into his skin, the molten heat that filled them…every nerve was on fire, every muscles contorted to its breaking point.

                And he could _see_ her, _feel_ her, above all of it, looking down at him, watching, frightened and yet unyielding. “Don’tyou _touch_ him.”

                _“JEAN STOP!”_

It was Hank’s voice, though Logan barely recognized it. He hit the floor suddenly, convulsing and twitching, rasping for air. Hank was beside him, big hands holding his arms firmly, keeping him from damaging himself or anyone else as his claws were still fully extended.

                Above him he could hear them all screaming at each other; Scott, Jean and Hank, each trying to be heard over the other, each more outraged and terrified by what they had just witnessed.

                “Everybody remain calm,” a firm, but quiet voice spoke then, parting the sea of noise above him. Logan felt the man approach, and then felt his physic presence in his rattled mind. The pain stopped, the memories dissipated, pushed back into the darkness of his subconscious and locked away for now.

                He knew Xavier saw everything; everything that had happened between him and Scott. He didn’t know what to expect, perhaps more severe punishment. Instead he only felt sedated, weak and disturbingly calm, like he had been drugged.

                He came back to himself, feeling Hank lifting him up in his big hands, his limbs limp and useless. As he moved, he saw the faces of those surrounding him. Scott was pale, shaking, and terrified as he looked at him, and Jean was beside him, trying to help him up, equally frightened yet much more composed.

                And then there was Charles, who came before them now, looking on at them with his usual observant, passive calm. But his eyes were more troubled now, and his brow was knit in concern.

                _“This is unacceptable,”_ Xavier spoke to him, and Scott as well it seemed, Logan could feel him on the edges of his mind, linked by Charles’ connection. _“I expect better, out of **both** of you! Attacking each other, **harming** each other! It cannot be allowed, not here, not in front of our students. This affair, or whatever it is, is finished. If I must step in again to prevent violence between the two of you…there will be dire consequences. Have I made myself clear?”_

                Logan couldn’t seem to form the thoughts he needed to reply, even within his own mind. He was sinking into unconsciousness, and that seemed to be alright with him. _“I’m…sorry.”_

                _“As am I, Logan. As am I.”_

               

***

 

                _X-Mansion, present…_

 

 

                Logan was still silently seething as he made his way back to his room. Scott had touched a nerve in a sore spot that he’d been prodding for weeks. He stepped into his room, throwing his towel with a snarl and slammed the door behind him.

                On the bed, Remy jolted in surprise. Logan froze instantly, having not even sensed the man’s presence in his distraction. “Sorry, darlin’.” He apologized quickly. “Didn’t mean to spook ya.”

                Gambit lifted himself off the bed, where he had been playing solitaire and made his way over to the man, immediately wrapping himself around him and pressing a kiss into his hairline. “What’s wrong, cher? I could feel ya comin, just didn’t expect the abrupt entrance.”

                Logan gave him a quick squeeze and peck on the neck before wiggling out of his long arms and letting himself fall into the chair by the bed. “Nothin’ important, darlin’.”

                Remy looked at him with that sly, knowing smile and sat himself down neatly between Logan’s knees, sliding between them like a cat and looking up at him with those big black and ruby eyes; “Hmm, dat so? Couldn’t be dat a certain visor wearing mutant rubbed your pelt de wrong way, non?” he purred.

                Logan frowned and smirked at him at once. “Stop readin’ me so well.”

                Remy scratched his hand lightly across Logan’s hard stomach, tracing the muscles; “Can’t help it, mon amour, you like an open book when you angry…” he looked at Logan pensively. “Why _does_ he make you so angry?”

                Logan pushed the Cajun’s rusty auburn hair out of his face, tucking it behind his ear; “S’long story, and I ain’t keen to tell it. Understand?”

                Remy sighed, but nodded. Logan didn’t like being pressed about these things, and only closed himself off more under pressure. “Alright, cher, have it your way. But you don’t get to grump about it all night, if dat’s how you’re going to be.” He stood up again and placed a sweet little kiss on Logan’s lips, then crinkled his nose. “You stink.”

                Logan growled mischievously, nuzzling up into him. “I thought you liked it when I sweat.”

                “When it’s during love-making, oui, but after a work-out in de danger room… _non._ You come back smellin’ like burning skin and dirt and god knows what else.” He turned away, quickly gathered his cards back into a neat deck and stuffed them in his pocket before turning towards the door. “I’m goin’ down to de common room for awhile, see what Storm and Hank are up to. You comin’?”

                “Not much in the mood for company, darlin’.” Wolverine answered.

                Remy shrugged, “Fine.I won’t be long…oh! Jubilee was lookin’ for you.”

                Logan rolled his eyes, “Ugh, not tonight, Gumbo. I can’t deal with teenage hormones on top of everything else.”

                Remy shrugged, blew him a kiss and quietly made his way out the door. Logan drank in the quiet of his absence, already regretting having scared him off, and resigned himself to a shower and a shave, alone with his grudge.

                He was just about to strip out of his pants, when there came a quick, incessant knock on the door that could only belong to one person. Logan snarled under his breath and stalked towards the door, grabbing the knob and ripping it open before another knock cloud land.

                He looked down into the startled face of Jubilee, who gave a little gasp at his abrupt answer. “Not now.” He muttered, trying to shut the door in her face, but she wedged her foot and hand between, forcing it open again.

                “Wait, wait, _waaaait!_ “ she whined, forcing herself into the room, much to his chagrin.

                “What part of _‘not now’_ do you not understand?” he demanded. She however, did not seem to be put off by his curt attitude. She was grinning, in fact, rather smugly.“Still in a _mood_ , I see.”

                Logan gave a long suffering sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Jubilation, this is really not—“

                “You know, Logan, just because _you’re_ in a mood, doesn’t mean you should take it on everyone else.” She retorted; “Especially your _favorite_ someone.”

                Wolverine narrowed his eyes at her; “I’m not going to apologize for coming down on you today. You _need_ to focus, kid, and we both know your mind was elsewhere.”

                “And yours wasn’t?” she retorted. “You’ve been in a foul mood ever since you and Scott got assigned training together. Don’t think I didn’t notice. Normally you’re on separate teams, or Hank or Storm or _someone_ else is part of the exercise. But ever since it’s been just _you two_ …ugh! The tension is so thick I could puke!”

                Logan stiffened, eyes darkening, the doorknob creaked faintly under the growing pressure from his palm. “You don’t know what yer talkin’ about, little girl.”

                But Jubilee wasn’t intimidated by his growling voice, nor the harshness of his gaze. She folded her arms matter-of-factly over her bright pink tube top and continued to smirk. “Don’t try to deny it. You and Cyclops have been at each other’s throats since we got here, practically. Don’t think I don’t remember that fight you two had.”

                “Stop right now, Jubilee.”

                “But _I’m_ the only one who knows _why_ you had that fight.” She leaned in slyly. “It’s because you two totally banged like a couple of drunk college students.”

                Logan’s eyes widened. _“What?!”_ he seethed between clenched teeth, a vein beginning to appear on his forehead.

                She giggled, slightly more nervously. “Did you forget that my room is right next door to yours? Or were you too drunk to remember that at the time?”

                Logan slammed the door, and it rattled on its hinges. “Jubilation Lee…” he said low and dangerously. “I don’t know what you’re getting at—“

                She pulled out her phone then, tapping at it quickly, until she held it up to him, turning the volume on high.

                _”…SCOTT!”_

_“Now who’s calling the shots, Logan!? Huh!? Who’s –ah! fuck!, oh shit!—calling the shots!?”_

                She tapped pause, and studied his face. “I’m guessing that’s the part where he got on top? I’m still a little fuzzy on positions…you guys were all over the place from the sound of it!”

                Logan had gone completely white in seconds, his mouth hanging open in shock, before a deep flush of color rushed into his face, turning it red with anger and embarrassment.

                _“JUBILATION LEE! WHAT THE HELL IS--”_

                “You say you’re sorry! You apologize to me, in front of the whole team, and tell them how awesome I am, or…or I’ll send this to everyone!”

                Logan started towards her, eyes bugging. “Are you trying to _extort_ me little girl? Cause I don’t think you even know what that word _means_ much less what I’ll do to you if you even _think of--_!”

                She raised her hand and blasted him in the face with a burst of her fireworks, blinding him for a moment and bolted towards the door, darting out into the hallway as he staggered after her. “JUBILEE! _JUBILEE!”_ he barked.

                “Say it! Say you’re sorry!”

                “ _YOU’RE_ GOING TO BE SORRY WHEN I GET AHOLD OF YOU!”

                “Logan I mean it!”

                “GIVE ME THAT PHONE!”

                She blasted him again, this time deafening him with the sound of it, and took off down the hall as fast as she could, “NOT UNTIL YOU SAY IT!”

                “GODDAMMIT JUBILEE!”

               

                Scott’s head had finally begun to clear, despite the fact that Logan was still buzzing in his mind. It seemed like no matter the lengths he took to distance himself from Wolverine, fate kept rubbing the other man in his face.

                The rift between them only widened since Remy had joined the team. Scott had convinced himself before than that eventually Logan would find his way back to him, as he had between every other relationship. But it looked like this time he’d truly lost that chance. Remy seemed to be “the one”, and it made Scott green with jealousy. Not that he would admit it, to anyone but himself, in moments like these where the lies were pointless and exhausting.

                Remy had the _best_ of Logan, he imagined. He saw that softer side that he’d glimpsed from the man when he was with people like Hank and Storm, but knew that Remy was also getting the best of Logan in the bedroom. _Of course_ he was…Gambit had been a street hustler, a criminal and a prostitute if what was in his files was in fact true. Scott had been through them a dozen times, studying them. Of course Logan would go for someone who was the exact opposite of him. Almost as if to spite him.

                Scott felt his desire slowly devolving into quiet rage, as it did in equal turns, like the tides. But his anger was easier to channel than his lust, and so he preferred the latter…so did everyone else it seemed. He was stewing over this as he left the showers, eager to escape to his room and find some distraction that took him far away from his thoughts, when there came a thundering down the hallway that made him stop and step aside.

                Jubilee flew past him, swinging around the bottom of the stair rail as she sprinted across the corridor and made for the common areas on the main floor. “Jubilee?” he gasped. “Hey! What’s the hurry?!”

                “GET BACK HERE!”

                Scott turned in surprise as Logan’s voice roared after her and he jumped from the second floor landing, thudding to the ground next to Scott and starting into a run again.

                “What the hell is--?!”

                Logan turned to him for a moment, red faced and bug eyed. “She _knows_ Scott! She _knows!”_

                “What?”

                Wolverine shook his head, pushing past him, “No time! Help me stop her!”

                He went sprinting after the girl again, leaving Scott blinking in the wake. Logan had given him such a serious, intensely disturbed look…but what did he mean she knows? What was there to know about?

                Then of course, it hit him.

                The only thing that _could_ make Logan look at him like that; the thing they had sworn to Xavier himself they would never again discuss or speak of, the thing that would ruin Scott as surely as it would ruin Wolverine.

                Scott was running then, taking the hallway in long strides, soon catching up to the sound of Logan’s barking voice as he chased the young woman through the winding halls. “JUBILATION LEE, IF YOU DON’T STOP RIGHT NOW I’M GOING TO EXPELL YOU!” he thundered.

                Logan glanced over his shoulder at him briefly, seeing Scott come sprinting up along side him as if he were running a track race and nodded, taking the next corner and leaping at Jubilee like a wild animal.

                He caught her and she screamed just as they fell through the opening leading into the main common room, which was highly crowded at this hour.

                The three of them fell into room, Jubilee squirming and kicking, managing to pry herself out of Logan’s grasp by kicking him in the crotch, leaving him wincing on the floor.

                “What’s going on?” Bobby asked, lifting himself from his seat, as he, Beast, Charles, Storm, Remy, Jean, Kitty and Warren all looked up in shock at their abrupt entry.

                “Scott,” Jean began in concern, “what is--?”

                Jubilee scrambled to her feet, holding up her phone. “Last chance!” she grinned, looking down at the two men on the floor. Logan reached for her desperately and Scott stood, glaring at her in nervous, furious manner.

                “Jubilee, I don’t know why you’ve decided this is _appropriate_ , but I assure you, it _isn’t._ ” he warned.

                “Would someone care to enlighten us on the details of this little melodrama?” Hank asked curiously, removing his glasses and putting down his book curiously. Gambit was sitting next to Ororo, looking quite startled at the display as well.

                “Cher?”

                Jubilee turned to them all, “Well, maybe it _isn’t_ appropriate, Scott. But neither is taking out your problems on your students and your teammates!” she quipped. She looked to Bobby, Warren and Kitty. “You guys know how they’ve been lately! Has anyone else ever bothered to ask _why_ Scott and Logan hate being together _so much_?”

                Jean raised a brow and looked to Scott, who seemed torn between choking Jubilee and melting into a puddle. “Yes, as a matter of fact.”

                Both men before her clenched and Logan pushed himself to his feet, stalking towards the girl again. “This isn’t a game, girl. Give me that phone.”

                “Not until you admit what’s wrong; why you’re acting this way all the time now.”

                “It’s bigger than that, bigger than you can understand.”

                Jubilee rolled her eyes; “I’m not a baby!”

                “Funny, cause you sure are acting like a spoiled brat, now give me that god damn phone!” He reached to grab it from her hand and finally managed to…only to find that she had turned it on, and his touch restarted the audio-clip she had saved.

                _“AH! AH, Yes! Yes! Wolverine! Wolverine please…please! Harder! **Harder!** ”_

_“Ya want me to pound that tight virgin ass of yours?! Cause I’m happy to do just that, Summers! I’ll wreck ya, ya won’t be walkin’ tomorrow, or the next day when I’m done! You want that?!”_

_“YES! Oh Fuck Y--!”_

                The room fell into dead silence as the clip played, loud and slightly muffled due to the quality. But there was no denying the voices that were so pleading and snarling so raucously through the little speakers. But Logan realized that just at the end, the clip seemed to have cut out. Blinking, he became of aware of the stillness of the room, and as he looked up, realized that everyone was frozen in that moment. Everyone except Charles, Scott and himself.

                “Professor?” he heard Scott’s shaky voice ask behind him, moving from his spot in the doorway to stand closer to Wolverine.

                Charles looked back at them from his chair, his expression that of weary father figure as he sighed. “I thought we had a better handle on this,” he sighed quietly, rolling forward to be closer to them.

                “We didn’t know she had it,” Logan replied, looking down at Jubilee’s phone in his hand. Xavier held out his hand and took the phone from Logan, looking it over for a moment deleting the clip and then handing it back.

                “Everyone’s already it heard it, Chuck. Won’t do much good now.”

                “They’ve already forgotten it,” Xavier answered with a faint smile. “I’ve altered the sound perception in their minds; what they think they’ve heard is the two of you rather drunkenly singing one of my favorite show tunes.” He glanced over his shoulder, back in the direction of Remy. “Well…accept, Mr. LeBeau, I’m afraid. He’s heard everything quite exactly.”

                “And what about Jean?” Scott asked, dry mouth and nervous. Logan glanced at him, not sure he’d ever seen Scott look so on edge. The fear he smelled coming off the man was more than what seemed natural, even for a person in Scott’s position. It was as if he were actually _terrified_ of Jean.

                Xavier sighed; “She, is the reason I am doing this.” He explained, turning to look back at the young red haired woman. “Normally, Scott, I would leave this to you, and I still expect you to find your own way of reconciling this with her. But finding out in this manner…I fear it will trigger something. Something that I sense is becoming unstable inside her.”

                “Like what?” Logan asked, looking between the two of them. “What’s he talking about?”

                Scott glared down at him; “Jean is the most powerful telepath on record next to Charles himself. She’s struggled with that immense responsibility since she was a little girl. She’s usually completely in control…but lately, we’ve noticed…”

                “Fluctuations in her telepathic powers. Dangerous ones,” Xavier concluded. “They seemed triggered by intense emotional states. And something like this…I fear could trigger a much worse episode than we are prepared for.”

                Logan looked nervously at Jean, feeling as though the woman’s frozen eyes were somehow boring into them; as if she already knew.

                “Does she know? About her powers?”

                “She is aware, yes. She is the one who came to me with the problem. We’ve been working on it for several days now.”

                “What do we do then?”

                “We wait,” Xavier answered, “until I can decipher the source of these power spikes within her mind. In the meantime…I’m afraid we must keep this between the three of us.”

                “I don’t feel right about this, Chuck.” Logan answered. “Not one little bit.”

                “You think _I_ do?” Scott snapped at him. “Do you have any idea how difficult it’s been to keep lying to her every day, to keep pretending that I’m the man she always thought I was?” He glared at Logan with wet eyes, “It’s killing me. Do you understand? So I don’t want to hear another damn word about how it was hard on _you. You got to walk away.”_ He looked over at Remy, a mixture of longing and loathing in his eyes and both men felt the sharp sting of his resentment and his envy. “But some of us have to keep going on.”

                Logan said nothing…what _could_ he say?

                “I’m going to release everyone now,” Chuck stated then. “And you two will act as if none of this has happened. Is that understood?”

                Scott nodded, though he hardly looked like he had the energy to continue the façade. Logan remained mute, his eyes set on Jean.

                The world fell into the motion again and the expressions on their friend’s faces twisted from shock into uproarious laughter.

                “OH MY GOD!” Bobby wailed, practically doubling over, “Logan, what the hell w _as_ that? Were you and Scott completely hammered when you tried to sing Karaoke? Why weren’t we invited?!”

                Everyone else was laughing; except for Remy, who stood off to the side next to Ororo, looking very confused. Logan left Jubilee’s side, noting that the girl also seemed somewhat confused, and made his way over to Remy.

                “Cher, what--?”

                Logan gave him a serious look that told him that he needed to follow his lead, and Remy nodded mutely, cracking a smile as he glanced around. His eyes fell on Charles, who was also chuckling softly, but the old man caught his gaze and nodded subtly.

                Jubilee looked at him sheepishly, “See, it’s no big deal. Now you and Scott can stop trying to hide your drunken escapades from everyone and admit that you’re two huge dorks!” she laughed.

                Logan patted her shoulder, “Ye got me kid.” He sighed. He took her phone from her hand and dropped it on the floor, smashing it under his foot.

                “HEY!”

                “I’ll buy you a new one.”

                He glanced up at saw Jean, who had her arms around Scott now, smirking as the tall brunette did his best to look adorably mortified. But as she looked over his shoulder and her eyes fell on Wolverine, her expression changed. She seemed to notice something was off, and looked to him for answers.

                He squeezed Remy’s hand in his and turned away from her, pushing his way through the cackling group of on-lookers. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yuk it up. First person who mentions _Rent_ to me is gonna get their head put through a wall.”

 

**

 

                “Okay,” Remy said, only once they had reached the privacy of their bedroom again. “What de hell was dat about?”

                Logan put a finger to his lips, listening nervously at the door for a moment in absolute silence, his feral senses trying to catch the slightest noise that could indicate someone else listening, but there was nothing but the faint murmur of students down the halls.

                Remy watched this with quiet fascination, opening himself to the ether of Logan’s emotions, getting a mixture of dread and pale relief. “Who is it we hiding from, cher?” the Cajun asked quietly when his lover finally relax, skulking further into the dark room, drawing Remy along with him.

                “It’s…complicated.”

                “Apparently.” Remy said with a smirk. “Wouldn’t be de first time dis LeBeau has run into a sex scandal…but dis sounds like it something more serious.”

                Logan fell into the bed face first, digging his nails into his scalp in what appeared to be a vain attempt to pull his hair out. “Do me a favor, Gumbo, and put me out of my misery would ya?” he mumbled against the mattress.

                Remy sat down beside him, rubbing his back. “I would never dream of it. Besides, it’s not so bad…so you slept wit Cyclops…at least, it sounded like it was fun at de time.”

                He smiled, hoping to get a little smile out of his partner, but all he got was a disgruntled snort of disgust. Remy curled around him, stroking Logan’s back and neck in his expert manner that made the feral melt into jelly under his careful hands. “Aside from Jean…why was it such a big secret?”

                Logan turned his head to look at him. “I slept with Scott three days after the X-Men took me in. We were both drunk, and the fall out the next day…let’s just say it nearly finished me with the X-Men before I even started. Jeanie was there for the fight, put the hurt on me pretty bad for scratching up her man…but she never knew _why_. Seems Xavier has his reasons for wanting it to stay that way.”

                Remy nodded slowly, “I see,” he laid his head down next to Wolverine’s on the bed. “But somethin’ tells dis Cajun dat if it was just sex, it wouldn’t hurt you so bad. Dere were feelin’s dere, am I right?”

                “Remy…”

                “Shh. It’s alright.” He kissed Logan’s lips lightly. “It happens; believe me, I know. You good people here, cher, but sometimes my empathy catches t’ings…ya’ll come from a lot of messed up places. Scott seems to be no exception.” He sighed a little; “Dat why he no’ like me much, you t’ink?”

                Logan pulled him close; “Fuck him.”

                “I thought dat’s what got you into dis mess.” Remy grinned and Logan laughed in spite of himself.

                “Don’t ever leave me, Cajun. You see the kind of trouble I get into without ya.”

                Remy nodded and tucked the smaller man against him. As Logan settled, the Cajun’s mind wandered back to Scott and Jean. Perhaps he should have resented Scott, or felt threatened that the man obviously still had feelings for Wolverine. Instead, he only felt a gnawing concern in the deep pit of his stomach.

                Unrequited desires like these usually lead to strange ways of expressing themselves. If left unchecked long enough, it lead to all sorts of unpleasantness. But this felt more like a powder keg, especially with Jean involved. He decided there was nothing he could do for the moment but watch and wait, and do his best to keep any stray sparks from igniting it.           

                Logan was almost dozing when Remy voiced the question that was gnawing at the forefront of his mind; “Odd though, don’t you t’ink, dat Xavier so interested in keeping Scott out of de hot seat. Makes me wonder what _he_ knows...”

                Logan didn’t answer, exhaling a little deeper in his twilight state of sleep, content to bury himself against Gambit’s body and forget the rest of the world for a time. Remy wrapped his long arms around him and kept him close, eyes slipping to their door on occasion as if wondering who or what might lay beyond, and if he could in fact feel as a safe here as Logan suggested.

                Perhaps it was paranoia, given all he’d been through in his life so far, and he shouldn’t be so quick to be suspicious. But he had learned well that enemies could be found closer than expected sometimes. If that was the case this time, he was getting out before things got bad…and he’d take Logan with him.

 

 


End file.
